Don't Promise (Don't 3)

“Then what’s the point of being king?” I grumbled.

“We can’t deprive scholars of those texts because you don’t want me to go to London.”

“What I want is my wife.” My hand landed on her knee.

She smiled sweetly. “I know this London thing isn’t your first choice, but if Sutcliffe followed my instructions, then I’ll be home every weekend. And you will be there with me the first and last weeks of the project. It will fly by. We’ll barely spend any time apart.”

“Or we could have the texts flown to the palace and held in the royal library while you complete your work.”

“I love that you want to do that for me. But you know what I love more?”

“What is that?”

“That you let me figure out how to make this work. You didn’t just shut it down.”

When Molly first told me her proposal had been accepted by the institute, my gut reaction was to voice a forceful no. I didn’t want to let her go. I especially didn’t want her to leave the country pregnant. But this woman got me. She understood what I needed and when.

And I had to do the same for her. To love her nerdy book habits. To support her work. To loosen my hold, even when it drove me crazy. London was going to be hell. But I knew I’d go through hell for her.

“I would do anything for you, love.”

“Even ask,” she teased.

“Yes, even ask. I love you, Molly Sauvage. I said it at our wedding, and I’ll say it again on this beach. The entire country of Bostique can hear me proclaim it.”

“Shh,” she giggled. “No one in Bostique wants to hear a crazy king.”

“You can’t stop love. And I’m in love with you. And our baby. I’ll do whatever it takes to show you that every day.”

Molly sat forward, swinging her feet into the sand. She scooted in next to me. “You have lost your mind, do you know that?”

I ran my hand along her back. Her skin was warm. I brought my palm to rest on her belly. “You know without you, I wasn’t a very good king.”

She settled into the chaise. The warm ocean winds breezed over us.

“That’s not true. You’ve always been a good king.”

I shook my head. “No. You’ve made me a better king. A better man. And soon I’ll be a father because of you.” I pressed gently at her bikini line. Our future rested beneath my hand. We were a family.

“God, I love you.”

I turned her lips to meet mine. She moaned as my tongue dipped inside her mouth. I pulled her under me. I didn’t want the honeymoon to end. The cabinet could wait. The royal council didn’t need me. This was fucking nirvana, lying with the woman I loved in my arms, baking under the island sun.

“Can we go back to the cabana?” she whispered in my ear.

“Only if you tell me why,” I taunted.

“I need you, Damon.”

“This isn’t enough?” I kissed her again.

“No. All of you. In that honeymoon bed.”

“See why I want the resort to ourselves? I could strip this tiny bikini off your body.”

She inhaled. “You can, inside.” She leaned forward to gather her book and beach bag.

The security guards moved from the palm trees behind us. We were flanked, even on our honeymoon.